


Whiskey, Neat.

by DixieSummers



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:58:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieSummers/pseuds/DixieSummers
Summary: Another smutty Cable oneshot, heavily aided by alcohol and the Friday blues.





	Whiskey, Neat.

Another fucking Friday night. 

You’re back at the shithole of bar you’ve gotten used to spending most of your nights in, dodging conversation starters from an array on unattractive men & knocking back as many whiskeys you can stomach- or afford, depending on the month really. 

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by the bartender approaching you. “A whiskey from the man at the end of the bar.” He slides the drink over to you and retreats behind the sink, fearing the worst from your surly drunken temper. 

You roll your eyes, ready to knock the lights out of the man who’s been pestering you the whole evening. Looking up from your drink, you’re surprised to see not the greasy snake of a man trying to slide in your pants the whole night, but a clean cut looking older man. He sees you looking, and raises his own glass with a nod. 

Drawing him in from head to toe, your eyes skimming across every inch of hewn muscle, you decide- what’s the harm? Grabbing your drink, you sashay over to him, teetering every so slightly in those little red heels. 

“Thanks for the drink big guy, this seat taken?” 

He pulls the seat out besides you, and with a smirk he says, “All yours doll.” 

“So to what do i owe this generosity?” 

“You looked like you needed it, that creep over there bothering you all night.” He points to the slippery looking man you had just turned down moments before, hunched over a table in the back nursing a bruised hand. He sees the two of you, catches the man’s eyes and flips him off. 

“Wonder what happened to ol’ fish lips over there.” 

“Not the slightest idea.” he smiles this time, a small, upwards crook of his lips and downs the rest of his drink. 

“So, what’s your name?” 

“Y/N, and you?” 

“Nathan Summers.” 

“Pleasure to meet you Nathan.” 

“Trust me y/n, old man like me? It’s very much my pleasure tonight.”   
“This night go well and i can definitely see us doing plenty of equally pleasurable things together,” You’re shocked with yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth, you’re not used to being so forward with men you find attractive, but something about the combination of your drinks and the way Nathan looks at you- almost as if devouring you whole; drives you to be bold. 

He raises an eyebrow, one so interestingly but attractively scarred. “Oh yeah? What would you call a good night.” 

“We could start by getting out of here…” You whisper seductively into his ear, nibbling lightly as you pull away. 

He clears his throat, wrapping an arm around your waist and ushering you out of the bar. 

*** 

You’re backed up against his beat up navy pickup truck now, his metal arm hovering dominantly over your head as his human arm grabs your waist, pulling you closer into his crotch. Nathan kisses you roughly, his human arm snaking its way from your waist to your throat, constricting as he deepens his kiss. 

When he breaks away for air, he releases your neck and you learn into him, gasping and shuddering, you hardened nipples brushing against his chest. 

He opens the door and has barely gotten into the truck when you’re over him, freeing yourselves from the confines of you tiny black dress and his grey slacks. 

You freeze for a moment, adjusting to the size of him inside you. 

Within seconds you’re moaning, riding him for all he’s worth. He keeps both hands locked on your hips, moving you in time with his thrusts. You head dips to bite his neck, you hear his growl of pleasure right in your core. 

You come screaming his name, raking your nails across his chest. He pounds into you, grunting into your neck, gripping so tightly on your hips you know it’s going to leave marks tomorrow. He moans your name ever so erotically as he spends his release, and you slump into the seat next to him, blushing and satisfied. 

“Well that’s one way to end the night.” You’re smiling now, pulling down the hem of your dress as he starts the car 

“I can think of a better way to start the morning.” 

“You asking me to stay the night Nathan Summers?” 

“Only if you make breakfast.” You laugh and kiss him, smiling as you feel his hand travel posessively to your thigh.


End file.
